


the shape of things

by soldierly



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Biting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-03
Updated: 2011-12-03
Packaged: 2017-10-26 19:58:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/287273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierly/pseuds/soldierly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain America has a biting fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the shape of things

It's the marks.

Or maybe it isn't.

Tony's never really thought of himself as _possessive_ over people -- mostly because the people in his bed are only there for a night, and he couldn't care less what happens to them after they leave (they always leave) -- but the sight of Steve, littered in marks in the shape of Tony's teeth and spread out, sprawled in the mussed sheets that smell of sex and sweat and come, makes something push low and hot in his stomach. He runs his fingers over the outlines, touches each bruised space. Steve shifts, sighs, leans into his hand. He's asleep, but even like this, he's drawn to it.

"What am I going to do with you," Tony says, mostly because it's already been two months, and Steve's still there every morning, scooped up to Tony's side. Tony still expects to come home one day and find a note, _Sorry, but I can't do this anymore, Sorry, but you're not enough, Sorry, but I found someone who isn't an insecure, selfish asshole_. Whenever Tony offhandedly mentions it, Steve gives him that _look_ , the exasperated, melancholy one that tells him just how stupid he's being. So it hasn't happened yet; all that _has_ happened is that Tony's gotten used to sharing the sheets and waking up with a heavy arm over his stomach every morning.

Steve likes pinning him down.

He also likes to be bitten.

It was accidental, finding out. Tony had sank his teeth into Steve's shoulder to muffle his moan, because they'd been in a supply closet at Avengers headquarters and Fury was un-fond of "sexual idiocy on the premises," and Steve had gasped and gone off right then, whole body shuddering against Tony's, a soft litany of _please please please_ shaking him through his orgasm.

Now it takes more, because Steve's used to the press and the sharp lighting of Tony's teeth, the way he bites down hard, lets up, and tightens again, a slow pulse that he sometimes stutters on when Steve thrusts, or when he slides his thumb over the slit of Tony's cock (Steve learns fast; he knows all Tony's tricks by now).

Steve stirs again, rubs against Tony's hand. "Awake?" Tony asks, and Steve cracks one eye open.

"Depends. Morning?"

"Sort of not really ish."

"Then I'm going back to sleep," Steve says good-naturedly. He turns over onto his stomach, showing off the flex of the marks on his shoulder blades. Tony presses his thumb into one and Steve moans softly, muscles banding. "You're insatiable."

"Says the supersoldier with an inhuman libido." When Tony looks at him again, Steve's eyes have darkened, and Tony grins at him, impish, inviting. "Does that look mean we're going to find the limit of said sex drive?"

"Don't you have a meeting in the morning?"

"Of course I do."

Steve sighs like he's going to protest, and Tony says, "Don't you want to give me something good to think about to get me through?"

"Then we can wait until tomorrow, after your meeting. You can look forward to it."

" _Steeeve_." Steve huffs at him. "I'll use my teeth again."

A slow squirm.

"On your thighs."

" _Fine_."


End file.
